The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets
by AoiKuroNekoSan
Summary: After defeating the murderer of her parents yet again, Chrys Potter is feeling pretty self-confident. In fact she's feeling extraordinary. Her brother Harry on the other hand, thinks he's nothing special. In a new year filled with challenges and adventures, Chrys is sure she'll have plenty of opportunity to prove him wrong.
1. Of Green Eyes and Games

**Here we go, onto the next adventure. As always thanks for the great response, and I don't own _Harry Potter_. **

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The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets:

**Chapter One: **Of Games and Green Eyes

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Chrysanthemum Potter woke to the soft cries of an owl. It was a tragically beautiful sound. The nearly twelve-year-old girl rolled out of bed and knelt in front of the cage where Hedwig the owl was kept prisoner. Not knowing how else to comfort her, Chrys squeezed her fingertips between the bars and stroked at the snowy white feathers. Though she barely had enough space to move, Hedwig somehow managed to nuzzle against Chrys. Temptingly, a sweet breeze brushed past the curtains. The bird and the girl sighed in unison. As Chrys had slept in a cupboard under the stairs for nearly eleven years, she understood the pangs of claustrophobia.

"I'll get you out of here, I promise," Chrys whispered.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Her twin brother Harry had woken up, green eyes squinting down at her from the top bunk. "We haven't found out where Uncle Vernon's stashed the key."

"Not yet, but soon if I have my way," Chrys said firmly.

"Which is when? When do we ever have our way?" Harry argued, pessimistic as always. Hedwig hooted again, no doubt attempting to mediate.

A resounding crash from the other room followed by shouts of "That ruddy owl!" singled that Uncle Vernon had woken up as well.

"Some day this is shaping up to be." Harry whistled happy birthday to me, badly out of tune.

Chrys grinned, amused. "We can't give up hope just yet. I'm sure you'll be less grumpy after we've had a bite to eat."

It may have been premature of her to assume breakfast would cheer them up. As usual, the mourning meal in Number Four Privet Drive was a strained affair.

Trying for some diplomacy, Harry pleaded with Uncle Vernon to let Hedwig out.

"Do I look stupid?" their Uncle spat, spewing bits of fried egg all over the table.

"Is that a trick question?" Chrys mumbled under her breath. Harry snorted quietly. Aunt Petunia tutted and dabbed at the tablecloth. Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but their cousin Dudley Dursley interrupted with an earth-shattering burp. "I am simultaneously impressed and disturbed," Chrys admitted. Dudley grinned at her, taking this as a compliment.

"Pass the bacon," he ordered, waving his meaty hand at the pan.

"You've forgotten the magic word," Harry reminded him, ever involved in the seemingly impossible task of teaching Dudley some manners. Chrys winced as the Dursleys exploded (unfortunately not in the literal sense).

Uncle Vernon jumped up, flapping limbs making him look rather like an out of control windmill. Dudley scrambled backwards, leaving smashed plates and overturned chairs in his wake. Aunt Petunia took one look at the state of her kitchen and slumped over in a near feint.

The Durselys only settled down once Harry had thoroughly apologized for using the 'M-Word.'

"I'm not surprised the thought of politeness shocks them so much," Chrys joked, though she knew it was the use of the word 'magic' that had thrown them off.

"I'm not a bomb," Harry grumbled as Aunt Petunia attempted to tidy the room and soothe her husband at the same time.

"With a temper like yours, you might as well be," Chrys teased.

Harry frowned. "I'm serious, this isn't ordinary behavior, even for them."

Chrys shrugged. "I reckon the Durselys have always thought of us as about as much good as spoiled milk." Harry laughed bitterly. "Besides, we're better than ordinary, we're extraordinary." Chrys glanced over her shoulder to make sure the others were properly distracted, and then continued in a quieter tone. "I'm a witch, you're a wizard and we go to the best school for magic there is. You should be proud."

"Easy for you to say, when you're second in our year," Harry pointed out.

Chrys rolled her eyes. "Your marks are fine. Anyway, it's not like school is the only proper measure of intelligence. You're plenty smart Harry, you wouldn't have survived otherwise. Need I remind you that we've faced off with the murderous dark wizard that killed our parents twice, _and_ lived to tell the tale? That's got to be worth something."

"I guess." Harry shrugged. Sometimes Chrys admired her brother's humility, mostly it was just annoying.

"Aren't you excited to get back to Hogwarts? I've missed learning new spells and being with Hermione and Ron…" Chrys trailed off at the look on Harry's face. "It's getting boring with only you and the Durselys for company," she continued, so that he wouldn't have time to dwell on their friends' absence. "You know, I even miss Lavender Brown filling me in on the latest gossip."

"I don't know about that… but I am looking forward to playing a bit of Quidditch." Harry ran his hands through his hair, smiling at the memory.

"After everything we've been through, that's what you choose to reminisce about?" Chrys didn't have much fondness for the popular wizarding sport, especially as it tended to put her brother in more danger than she considered necessary.

"The way things are going you won't have to worry about Quidditch much longer," Harry sighed. Chrys gave him a questioning look. "If I don't practice over the summer, they're bound to kick me off the team," he elaborated.

"You're being too hard on yourself," Chrys told him, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

"Yeah well…" Harry paused, suddenly refocusing on the Dursleys' conversation.

"Now as we all know, today is a very important day," Uncle Vernon announced pompously. Harry's green eyes gleamed hopefully. "This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," Vernon continued. Harry wilted. Chrys patted his back. Her poor brother must have assumed their uncle had finally remembered their birthday.

Instead Uncle Vernon was deadest on throwing the perfect dinner party so that his clients would hand over as much money as possible. Aunt Petunia and Dudley had been assigned various tasks of buttering up the guests, while Harry and Chrys were told to go to their room, not make a sound, and feign non-existence. Chrys thought this sounded much easier than forcing the Durselys' hostile personalities to seem hospitable.

At least Harry cheered up watching Dudley practice appearing polite. Aunt Petunia may have punished him for laughing, but luckily she was too busy shooing them out of the house so that she could undertake her grandest cleaning venture of the year.

"Come on Harry." Chrys linked arms with him. "We'll celebrate twelve years of existing if it kills us."

Harry peered through the window nervously. "If we interrupt Aunt Petunia she might actually kill us." For once he wasn't dramatizing. Still, Harry and Chrys did their best. They sang a roaring chorus of Happy Birthday, for a moment suspending disbelief in their musical abilities. Chrys gave Harry her usual handmade card, this year's version featuring a lion in a birthday hat.

"What's wrong baby brother?" She poked at his sides. Harry didn't swat her away, or even start their usual argument of who had been born first.

"It's great Chrys… I just thought for the first time in my life I'd get a birthday card from someone other than you." His puppy dog eyes pulled at her heartstrings. "Did we do something wrong? Maybe we hurt their feelings without realizing."

Chrys didn't have to ask whom he was talking about. There had been no word from Ron or Hermione since end of term. "It could be some sort of elaborate prank," she considered.

Harry shook his head. "I might expect that from Fred and George, but not Ron and Hermione. We should have heard from them by now." He plucked a piece of gravel from the driveway and tossed it from hand to hand. Growing up without toys, Harry and Chrys were old pros at getting creative for entertainment.

"Bet you can't hit that hedge," Chrys challenged him. This had been one of Harry's favorite games. Chrys would pick a target, and amazingly Harry would always hit the mark.

Harry smiled weakly. "You're on." He lifted his arm, ready to throw… and then dropped to his hands and knees, staring fiercely. "There are eyes in that shrub."

Hoping he hadn't lost the last vestiges of his sanity, Chrys crawled down beside him and squinted through the leafy green. "Oh." Either she'd gone just as mad, or there were a pair of green eyes, as big as dinner plates (without any head or body visibly attached) floating in the shade of the hedge.

However, she was cut off from making any conclusions by her cousin's snorting laughter.

"Why are you crawling around like babies?"

"Of course ickle-Diddykins, we're the infantile ones," Chrys responded without missing a beat. Dudley scratched his head. Harry sat up, wiping his palms on his jeans.

"Whatever it was, it's gone now. Dudley must have scared it away," he informed her, ignoring their cousin.

"Poor whatever-it-was. If only it had known that Dudley's bark is much worse than his bite," Chrys sighed mildly. Dudley's brow was wrinkled to the point of him looking like a chubby shar pei.

He attempted to gain control of the situation the only way he knew how. "Oh yeah, well at least I don't spend my birthday staring at hedges!"

An unbidden smile slipped onto her face. "You remember our birthday?" This was more than she could say for his parents.

Harry was not as easily affected. "Actually I was trying to figure out which spell to use to set the hedge on fire." Dudley was shaken, but still able to call Harry's bluff. Even someone as dumb as Dudley knew that Uncle Vernon would kick the twins out at the first sign of magic, and as much as they'd like to leave, they didn't really have anywhere else to go. Angrily Harry stood up and chased Dudley around shouting out words of nonsense. "Jiggery pokery! Hocus Pocus! Squiggley wiggly!"

Chrys laughed, though she thought the last one was rather weak. She laughed harder as Dudley did what any sensible twelve year old would do—called for his mummy. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia didn't find the situation nearly as funny. She stuck her head out the window, and after taking a quick cursory glance at the situation, swung at Harry with her heaviest saucepan. Chrys gasped in fear, and then again in relief as Harry intuitively dodged the blow.

"You could have seriously injured him!" Chrys screamed at Petunia.

"Quiet down before the neighbors hear you!" Petunia hissed.

"If you go near him again I'll shout so loud, they'll hear me in China," Chrys threatened. Harry gripped her shoulders, stopping her from advancing on Petunia, fists shaking.

His voice in her ear was the only thing stopping her from breaking free and pouncing. "I'm fine Chrys, it's okay, don't worry about it."

"See, he's fine," Aunt Petunia repeated. She was eyeing Chrys somewhat warily, yet she still had the audacity to assign the twins a round of cleaning, for punishment for scaring Dudley. "And don't expect a crumb of food until you've finished!"

"Nobody wants your horrible cooking anyway," Chrys grumbled.

Aunt Petunia narrowed her eyes, seeming to take this personally. "Get to it girl!"

Chrys took a deep breath, and marched away, still glaring at her aunt.

As Dudley ate the ice cream his mother had given to him to help him recover from his trauma, Harry and Chrys pulled, picked and scrubbed away all of Number Four's impurities. Chrys might have been proud of their accomplishments, especially having managed to do so much in such blazing heat—had she not been busy fuming at Aunt Petunia.

Chrys was so frustrated with her aunt that she didn't even eat her meager supper, comprised of stale bread and cheese. She had to leave the kitchen before her body betrayed her, mouth watering and stomach growling as she saw the mountain of whipped cream and sugar roses Aunt Petunia was preparing for pudding. Harry sighed wistfully as the scent of roasting pork met their noses. Aunt Petunia was pleased to see them watching. "That'll teach you to insult my cooking," she said primly, before shooing them upstairs.

The twins' roles from earlier that day had flipped-flopped. Harry attempted to cheer Chrys up by handing over the extra bread and cheese he'd hidden in his pockets. Chrys ate it, somewhat reluctantly, but she ate it all the same. Like any child who'd gone hungry, Chrys knew to eat whenever she got the chance. "It'll be a nice quiet night in," Harry tried to play up their situation. "We can play with that set of cards you found in Dudley's waste bin."

"I'd prefer Exploding Snap," Chrys mumbled, recalling the much more interesting wizarding version of cards.

"Pyromaniac," Harry teased.

"Maybe a little." Chrys grinned. Exploding Snap was aptly named after all.

"Bet I win the first round."

Chrys was never one to turn down a challenge. "You're on."

They never found out who would have won that night, as they were rather preoccupied by other matters. The bulbous green eyes from earlier had returned, this time with a body and a head. And what a head it was.

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**I'm still working on the next couple of chapters, but I've sort of got an idea of where I want to go with it, which is better than last time. Hope you'll come along for the journey. (Cue cheesy theme music).**


	2. Of InterrogationsandLack of Explanations

**Okay, here's another chapter.**

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The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets:

**Chapter Two: **Of Interrogations and Lack of Explanations

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"What the—" Harry clapped his hands over Chrys' mouth, muffling her shouts. He gave her a pointed look as he slowly lowered his hands. "Oh right, I don't exist," Chrys recalled in a whisper. The strange creature sitting on her bed tilted his head and observed her curiously. "Just a little inside joke between us and our uncle," Chrys informed him. "Er, why are you sitting on my bed?" The creature immediately scrambled off her mattress and squished himself into a low bow against the carpet. Chrys watched him guiltily. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

"No—not at all Miss!" The creature squeaked out in a voice like a dog whistle. "It is Dobby's fault, Dobby should have been more respectful…"

"Um, thanks?" Chrys turned to Harry, silently urging him to do something.

"Ah… Hello, Dobby is it?" Harry bent down to be more on level with Dobby.

"Yes! Dobby, Dobby the house-elf. And you, Harry Potter! Dobby is honored to meet you sir!" Dobby cried out. Suddenly spent, Chrys sunk into Dudley's abandoned wheelie chair, the bent springs creaking.

"Excellent…" Harry said untruthfully. He kept glancing at the door, no doubt wondering how far Dobby's voice might carry. Aunt Petunia's horsey laughs buzzed through the walls. If they could hear Aunt Petunia, chances were Aunt Petunia could hear them. Not good, not good at all. Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Listen, sorry to be so direct, but this really isn't a great time for us to have a house elf in our room." Dobby dipped his head apologetically. Harry frowned. "Not that we're not pleased to meet you but…"

"Is there any particular reason you're here?" Chrys finished for him.

"Oh yes, sir and miss." Dobby nodded. "Dobby has come to tell you…well, it is difficult to know where to begin…" His long boney fingers scratched at fluff protruding from his bat-like ears. Chrys felt her hands itch as she was almost overcome by the urge to snatch up a pencil and do a sketch.

"You've got great ears," Chrys burst out. Dobby blinked at her.

"Thank you miss." He seemed truly grateful for the comment, maybe even too grateful. His eyes were watering.

"Please." Chrys gestured at her bed. "Sit down, get more comfortable."

The dam burst. Dobby's tears overflowed. He seemed horrified at having been asked to sit down. "There, there…" Harry patted the elf's back. "We didn't mean to offend you." Through his sobs Dobby explained that he was not offended, to the contrary he felt blessed by their kindness, their easiness in treating him like an equal. Chrys frowned, wondering how badly Dobby was usually treated if offering him a seat drove him to the point of happy tears. Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines, joking lightly that Dobby can't have meet many decent wizards. Dobby nodded in agreement, and finally stopped crying.

Instead he did something worse, jumping up and repeatedly slamming his head against the window screaming, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" Harry pulled him up by the neck of his pillowcase toga. The elf thrashed, bashing his little fists against his head. Dobby needed to calm down before he got them all killed. Chrys gripped his hands in her own.

"Hush now," she told him firmly. Dobby was shocked enough by the contact to fall silent. "Deep breaths," Chrys suggested. He followed her advice dutifully, and Harry gently lowered him to the floor.

"What was all that about?" Harry wanted to know. Standing somewhat wobbly, Dobby explained that he was required to punish himself every time he spoke ill of his family. Harry launched into question mode. Soon they discovered that Dobby was bound to serve his wizarding masters until the day he died.

"They don't sound like the type to let you out for visiting hours," Chrys pointed out.

Dobby sheepishly admitted he would have to be punished for this offense. He tentatively touched his ears. "Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this…" Chrys bit her tongue, swallowing her automatic angry response.

Harry frowned. "Won't they be suspicious about the extra punishments?" Dobby shot this query down, explaining that his masters tended to assign extra punishments anyway, so a couple more wouldn't be amiss. "That's horrible. Why don't you leave? Escape?" Dobby couldn't do that. He was magically bound to the family. Chrys shuddered, hating that she identified with Dobby's situation. Both of them were stuck living with horrible excuses for families, yet quite unable to leave. Harry sympathized as well. "Do you have someone, anyone who could help you?"

"He has us," Chrys said immediately. "We'll help you." Again Dobby bowed to the twins, praising their greatness. Chrys coughed, unable to repress the underserved pride creeping up in her chest.

Of course Harry brushed the compliments aside. "We're not all that great Dobby. Sure Chrys is clever, almost as clever as Hermione but I'm only…" He trailed off. Chrys understood. Hermione's name made her chest ache as well.

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," Dobby observed admiringly.

"More than he knows." Chrys grinned. Harry rolled his eyes.

Dobby glanced between the two of them. "You speak not of your great triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort—"

"Please sir! Speak not the name!" Dobby squeaked in terror.

Harry winced. "Sorry, I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron…" His wounded puppy dog eyes were back. Chrys scrunched up her nose. Ron better have a good explanation for hurting Harry like this.

"Not that I don't enjoy all the compliments Dobby, but what's the point of all this?" Chrys wondered.

Dobby sat up straighter, as if just recalling the reason. "Ah, Dobby has come to protect the Potters! Please, you must not go back to Hogwarts."

"No way!" Harry and Chrys protested. Chrys thought that any added danger would be well worth the risk, so long as they could leave the Dursleys. Dobby disagreed. He was too frightened about some mysterious plot that was being put into action at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, thanks to Dobby's uniquely cruel punishment arrangement, he couldn't give them many details. The twins would have to find out what was waiting for them without his help.

"Now who do we know who likes plotting against us?" Chrys said sarcastically. Harry caught on immediately.

"Is it Vol—I mean, You-Know-Who?" He questioned Dobby.

Dobby was as enigmatic as Dumbledore, saying that it wasn't Voldemort, though something in his tone made Chrys think differently. Either way, Harry wasn't too fussed about the prospects of danger, especially with Dumbledore as headmaster.

While Dobby admired Dumbledore greatly, he knew Dumbledore was a wizard of the light and would therefore be weak against certain dark magics—Dobby leapt up and started punching himself in the head with Dudley's old desk lamp. Harry and Chrys scrambled to quiet him, but it was too late.

Uncle Vernon was all ready thundering up the stairs, under the excuse that Dudley had forgotten to turn off the television. "Quick, in here!" Harry grabbed Dobby and apologetically shoved him into the closet. Then he jumped onto the bottom bunk, expression of false innocence plastered over his face. Chrys picked up a notebook at random just as Uncle Vernon burst into the room.

"What the devil are you doing?" Uncle Vernon interrogated them in a forced whisper.

"Pretending not to exist," Chrys shot back.

"Well you're doing a bang awful job of it," Uncle Vernon grunted, glaring. "You ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke!"

"Racist," Chrys singsonged under her breath.

His beady eyes snapped to her. "What was that?"

"We're sorry Uncle Vernon," Harry interrupted quickly. "Won't happen again."

"It better not, or you'll wish you'd never been born!" Uncle Vernon shut the door tightly behind him.

"Fine thing to say on someone's birthday," Chrys sighed.

"Shut up," Harry told her, standing shakily. He let Dobby out of the closet. "Don't you see why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? I can't stay here. Hogwarts is the only place where I've got… well, where I think I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even write?" Dobby's voice went whispery.

Harry drooped. "I expect they've just been busy…" He frowned. "Hold up…"

"How do you know our friends haven't been writing to us?" Chrys finished his thought. Dobby suddenly became very interested in the dirt under his fingernails. "Dobby?"

"Please don't be angry." His voice shrunk even more.

Telling Harry not to be angry only ever made him angrier. His eyebrows knit together. "Have you been stopping our letters?" Dobby slowly pulled a bundle of letters out of his toga. Harry took a step forward, but Dobby hopped up onto the desk, out of reach. As Harry seethed, Dobby explained that he'd taken the letters, hoping it would make Harry think his friends had abandoned him, and make him sad enough to not want to return to school. Like the natural seeker he was, Harry snatched left and right for the letters, but Dobby was surprisingly quick. He said he'd only give back the letters if the twins promised not to return to Hogwarts.

"Not a chance," the twins said in unison. They both jumped for the letters at once, accidentally slamming into each other. Dobby used their backs as a springboard, flying over them, pulling open the door and sprinting down the hallway. Chrys let out a word that would have made Hermione wash her mouth with soap. Then she followed Harry who had raced after Dobby.

She bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, heart nearly leapt into the pudding as Dobby somehow made Aunt Petunia's masterpiece soar into the air. "Please, they'll kill us," Harry begged.

Dobby said it was for their own good.

Chrys couldn't agree less.

As the pudding floated into the sitting room, it hovered above Uncle Vernon's clients' heads, pausing tauntingly for a moment before it dropped.

Dobby disappeared into thin air as the screams rang out, leaving Harry and Chrys standing suspiciously with their hands stretched out.

"Sorry!" Harry shouted, not helping matters. Uncle Vernon looked as if his eyes might pop out of his head.

"It's not his fault," Chrys tried to tell the two strangers covered in a sticky mess. "I… I threw it! He was only trying to stop me."

"She's mad you see," Uncle Vernon quickly took up with her story. "Not quite right in the head—she's a danger to herself and everyone around her, so we've got to keep her away from the strangers." Chrys nodded wildly as Mr. and Mrs. Mason blinked in confusion.

"Well, if it's involuntary…" Mr. Mason gave Chrys a piteous glance, and she thought for one glorious moment she might get away with it—that is, until the owl swooped through the window and dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head. She shrieked hysterically and went running out of the house, leaving a trail of pudding as she went. Mr. Mason crossed his arms. "My wife has a very serious case of ornithophobia." Uncle Vernon blinked stupidly. "She's deathly afraid of birds!" Mr. Mason explained. Uncle Vernon's mouth made a wide O shape. "This is even less tolerable than your Japanese golfer joke, Vernon." Mr. Mason stomped out of the room, waving aside Aunt Petunia's offers to wash his suit.

"Open it!" Vernon ordered, slapping Harry over the head with the letter he'd fished out of a puddle of pudding. Harry delicately tore open the envelope, Chrys reading over his shoulder.

Apparently they'd been given a warning, threatening expulsion from school because of Dobby's bit of magic. Uncle Vernon read it as well, clapping his hands gleefully as he realized Harry and Chrys were forbidden from doing magic. He grabbed them each by the scruff of their shirts and dragged them up stairs. "I'm locking you up!" He announced cheerfully. "You'll never be able to get back to that school—and if you try to magic yourself out—they'll expel you." He threw them into their room, lock clicking with a horrible sense of finality.

Chrys shuddered at the sound of his evil laughter.

Slowly, the twins turned to look at each other. "I'm sorry," they said in unison. "It's not your fault," they chorused. Chrys stared. Harry stared. Then together they burst into laughter even madder than Uncle Vernon's.


	3. Of Cages and Cars

I do not own _Harry Potter. _Chrys is another story. In fact, she is this story.

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The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets:

**Chapter Three: **Of Cages and Cars

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"You two, up, now!" Aunt Petunia's shrill shouts and sharp knocks were unmistakable. Chrys half expected to be showered with spiders as had often happened when she sat up too quickly and banged her head on the cupboard ceiling.

Oddly enough, this was worse.

Aunt Petunia lead them to the bathroom, apparently not trusting to them to do even so much as that without supervision. "We'll let you out once in the morning and once in the evening to do your business, but otherwise you are not to leave your room, do you hear me?"

Chrys wondered if she dared ask. "What about food?"

Aunt Petunia turned her nose up, as was her response to any question. "Your uncle is fitting a cat flap onto your door. I will put your meals through it."

"Wow, thanks, that's so generous of you." The words laced in sarcasm spewed from her mouth before she had a chance to hold them back. Aunt Petunia glared. Chrys cleared her throat, hoping against all odds that one day she would learn the delicate art of shutting up.

When they got back from the bathroom, Uncle Vernon had finished with the cat flap, and moved onto examining something by the window.

"Come here," he commanded them. Chrys did as ordered, albeit warily. For a moment she imagined Uncle Vernon grabbing her by the collar and chucking her out of the window. She was calculating the likelihood of her survival when she finally noticed the bars. Uncle Vernon patted the thick iron frame with the kind of pride men usually reserved for their first-born sons. "Blocked off this entrance as well, in case you were thinking of getting clever."

Clever or not, there was certainly no way out of that window with those bars over it.

Hedwig raised her head in curiosity. "Now we match," Chrys sadly told the caged bird.

Within a day, Chrys was ready to start gnawing at the bars and body slamming into the walls.

"We've been shut up for longer periods of time," Harry reminded her. "At least this room is bigger than our cupboard."

"A cage is still a cage, no matter the size," Chrys sighed. "I suppose I just got used to being able to move about freely at Hogwarts. Perhaps it would've been better if I never got a taste for freedom." Hedwig hooted dolefully.

"No." Harry frowned. "There's got to be a way out of here, we just haven't thought of it yet." He threw a lonesome sock at Chrys. She glared at him as it bounced off her head. "Come on, we have all the time in the world—let's brainstorm."

"You're being unusually plucky," she observed.

"You aren't," he countered.

"Fair point. I'll give it a try." She smiled grimly. "Let's think up a storm."

Unfortunately, just as Hogwarts had tempered Chrys for freedom, the Great Hall had tempered her stomach for filling. While in the past she may have lasted weeks with little to eat, currently she was the queen of woozy heads, and woozy heads are the mortal enemies of productive thought. Though, technically Aunt Petunia had stuck to her word and was feeding the twins, it was clear she was only handing over the bare minimum.

"It's because I insulted her cooking," Chrys thought aloud, eyeing the gloopy bowl of caned soup, which hadn't even been heated up.

"It's better than nothing," Harry said gently.

"Then why aren't you eating it?" Chrys grunted. Harry was attempting to feed his portion of the mush to Hedwig, who looked as if she had a more refined culinary palate.

"We've got to keep up our strength," Harry reasoned. "There's no use turning your beak up at it."

"I haven't got a beak," Chrys argued.

Harry laughed. "I was talking to Hedwig."

"Ah. That makes more sense."

"You're becoming delirious, let's get some rest."

"Not like there's anything else to do." Chrys snuggled under the covers, staring blankly up at Harry's bedsprings.

His voice floated down from the top bunk. "Maybe if we wait it out until the end of summer, Hogwarts will notice we haven't shown up and send someone to come get us."

"That's a long shot Harry."

"It's all we've got."

"We have got hope," she added.

"For now," he agreed, halfheartedly.

She stayed awake until his snores echoed through the room. The sound of his slow breathing had just started to lull her to sleep, when she suddenly heard a tap, tap.

Chrys tumbled out of bed, thinking it was Hedwig calling out for attention.

Instead, a familiarly freckly nose was poking through the bars.

"Ron," she cried.

At the sound of Ron's name, Harry nearly fell out of bed. Luckily he didn't actually fall out of bed, as the noise probably would've woken Uncle Vernon, which would certainly ruin the Weasley brothers' lovely prison break attempt, even with their impressive getaway vehicle.

"Your car is flying," Harry observed, once he'd stumbled over to the window for a closer look.

"Never mind that," Ron answered. "Why have you got bars on your window?"

"Our Uncle thinks he's a genius," Chrys said. Ron scratched his nose. "We're being punished," she elaborated.

Ron nodded. "I thought something might be up when you two didn't respond to any of my letters."

Fred Weasley popped his head out of the car window. "Little Ronnie has been missing you something fierce."

"I've heard him cry himself to sleep at night." George wiped invisible tears out of his eyes.

"Oh Ron! I didn't know you cared," Chrys played along.

"Oh ha ha, you'll have plenty of time to take the mickey out of me later," Ron went on. He turned to Harry. "Why've you done magic out of school? You know we're not allowed."

"You're one to talk." Harry gestured at the car. "Anyway, how'd you know about the whole 'doing magic out of school' thing?"

"Dad enchanted the car, so technically we're in the clear," Ron finagled. "And he works at the ministry, so he told us about the warning—said you've got a chance of being expelled if it happens again." He turned to Chrys. "By the way, Hermione's sent me an entire research paper on the '_undeniable repercussions of unethical expulsion'_ in your defense."

"That's sweet her." Chrys beamed.

"Oh yeah, sweet of her to waste all that parchment for nothing," Ron grumbled.

Harry cleared his throat. "And it was sweet of you three to come and visit, but if the Dursleys catch you—"

"Nonsense," Fred interrupted. "We've never gotten caught."

"Well there was that one time," George reminded him.

"Sure, but I count that as a win since it was thanks to that we found the thing."

"Ah, too true, the thing was a worthwhile payment for all risks and punishment involved."

"What thing?" Chrys wanted to know.

"Later." Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Ron, can you tell them at Hogwarts that I'm a bit tied up—"

"Locked up," Chrys corrected him.

"Tell them that we're locked up and can't get out," Harry finished.

"You're gibbering," Ron noted, bemused.

"He does that when he's nervous," Chrys agreed. "What's the plan?"

"We're busting you out of here of course." Ron grinned. Harry blinked in confusion.

"How? Without magic…"

"That's why I've brought along these two." Ron jerked his thumb at his older brothers.

"That and you needed someone to drive the car," Fred pointed out.

"I wouldn't exactly call what you do driving," Ron grumbled.

"Boys," Chrys said warningly. "Let's get back on track before the Durselys wake up."

"And kill us all," Harry added.

"Don't you worry your scruffy little heads." Fred rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Ready George?"

"Ready Fred." George grinned and tossed a bit of rope hard through the bars. Harry snatched it out of the air automatically. "Tie that around there." Harry did as instructed, continuously glancing over his shoulder to keep in eye on the door.

"We are so dead," Harry repeated over and over. Chrys felt inclined to agree. Then Fred did an excellent bit of maneuvering, driving the car vertically into the sky. The bars came off with a snap. Ron caught them and lowered them down noiselessly. Fred drove back close to the window, and Chrys was all ready to jump in and ride off into the sunrise with them, but Harry pointed out that all of their school things were still downstairs, locked in the cupboard.

"Easy-peasy." George shrugged, slinking out of the car and into the room. He held up a hairpin triumphantly before leaning down to pick the lock.

"Never underestimate a muggle-trick," Fred told them.

"You sound like dad," Ron chuckled.

"Why thank you, though I doubt I'm anywhere near his level…yet." Chrys gave him a questioning look. "You'll see when you meet him. Now wait for it…" George stood up and bowed as the door popped open.

"My hero." Chrys gave him a bone-crushing hug. "You've got to teach me that sometime."

"I wouldn't want to corrupt you." George grinned sheepishly.

"Corrupting youths? That's my favorite past time," Fred popped up between them. Uncle Vernon let out an alarming snort from the other room. Fred lowered his voice. "Though perhaps this isn't the best time."

"Right, I'll help Fred and George get the trunks as they'll be heavy." Harry's leader-mode switched on. "Chrys, you and Ron should get things together up here."

"Aye-aye captain." Chrys saluted him.

Harry ignored her, used to such antics. "Careful, there's a creaky stair at the bottom," he whispered to the Weasley twins as they tiptoed down the hall. Chrys quickly put together a bag of extra clothes, books and art supplies. Ron reached out his long arms and took it carefully.

"Thanks for coming to get us," she told him warmly. Unbidden, her voice grew hoarse. "I'll admit, for a while I was rather angry… I thought you… might have forgotten us."

Ron scoffed. "Don't be stupid. I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"Yeah… yeah, I guess you are."

By the time they lugged the trunks upstairs, puzzle-pieced everything into the car, and Harry forced his two-sizes-too-small trainers onto his feet, the unthinkable happened. Uncle Vernon stampeded down the hall, his pounding and swearing enough to rival an entire herd of rhinoceroses.

"In you go." Harry grabbed Chrys around the middle and flung her into Ron's awaiting arms.

"Oomph! You're heavier than you look," Ron complained as she crawled off of him.

"Really?" Chrys brightened. Then Uncle Vernon bashed the door open. He roared in fury when he spotted Harry, who crouching—teetering on the windowsill.

"Just in the nick of time," Harry grinned as he jumped into the car.

"Wait! You've forgotten Hedwig!" Chrys gasped in horror. Harry swore. He leapt through the window, clutching the cage to his chest. Uncle Vernon latched onto his ankle.

"Let go of him you big lump!" Chrys stomped hard on Vernon's fingers while Ron and George pulled with all their might.

"Step on it Fred!" Ron cried out. The car gave a horrible lurch and Uncle Vernon was left dangling dangerously out the window, with only Harry's left shoe for company.

"See you next summer!" Harry shouted as Chrys dissolved into laughter.

"You are completely mad," Ron said delightedly.

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**I don't love this chapter, but eh, could be worse. hearsay: **the Ginny/Chrys interaction is coming up, hope it floats your boat.


	4. Of New Heights and Horizons

**I do not own _Harry Potter_. He is his own free agent.**

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The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets:

**Chapter Four: **Of New Heights and Horizons

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Hedwig zipped towards the horizon. Chrys kept her eyes glued to the white blur.

"Don't look down, don't look down," she muttered to herself. She hugged her knees to her chest, silently cursing Fred's driving skills, or lack thereof.

Ron's voice jolted her out of her haze. "So, what's the story Harry?"

"Well… it all started when we got a visit from Dobby," Harry began.

"And who might we ask, is Dobby?" The Weasley twins chorused from the front.

"Dobby the well-meaning, but decidedly misguided house-elf," Chrys answered.

"A house-elf at your aunt and uncle's place?" Ron frowned. "I've never seen anywhere so muggle."

"You're not likely to, no matter how hard you look," Harry agreed. "Even with Dobby chucking pudding at Uncle Vernon's important clients, Number 4 Privet Drive is still the mugglest of all muggle houses."

"Pudding? Sounds fun," George chuckled.

"Maybe, if it hadn't gotten us locked up with barely anything to eat," Chrys grumbled. George turned, his expression properly admonished. In the rearview mirror Chrys saw Fred's gaze burn.

"Can't believe we left that house without setting any booby-traps." For a moment his playfully dark tone gave her chills. Then George snapped him out of it.

"Ha! Booby-traps." George grinned and nudged Fred in the ribs.

"Oi! Not while I'm driving."

"Right, sorry."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Go on then Harry."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ah, yeah so Dobby was the one who was blocking our mail."

"Knew it must have been something like that." Ron nodded thoughtfully. Harry raised an eyebrow. "What? Not that I could've guessed that a house-elf was involved, but I did figure… well I reckoned it was forces beyond your control… I mean you're not the type to drop out of touch like that." Harry beamed. Ron flushed.

"Hate to break up this love fest," Fred commented. Harry rubbed his neck. "Only, I am curious to know why some random house-elf was blocking your letters."

"I think Dobby was just doing his best to help us," Chrys thought aloud.

"Help you what? Tidy your room?" George joked.

"Not that we couldn't use it… but no." Harry twiddled his thumbs. "He said someone was plotting to unleash a dark force in Hogwarts so it wouldn't be safe for us to return." The car grew quiet, except for Hedwig, who had returned with a proud hoot as she dropped a mouse carcass in Harry's lap. Chrys brushed it aside.

"That's why he took the letters, to try and convince us that we weren't wanted at Hogwarts," she continued.

"Fishy," Fred decided.

"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "He didn't even tell you who was plotting this stuff?"

"Well, our first suspect was the murderous scum who killed our parents, but Dobby said it wasn't him," Chrys explained.

"Dobby was so close to giving something away… if only he didn't have to keep punishing himself." Harry ran a hand through his hair. Fred ho-hummed and glanced at George. Harry didn't miss the look that passed between them. "What? You think he was lying to us?"

"Eh… house-elves do have powerful magic of their own, but nothing strong enough to overturn their masters' commands. It's more likely Dobby was sent to you as some sort of bad-tasting joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," Harry and Ron said immediately.

Chrys frowned. "We've all ready crossed Voldemort off the list." Ron hissed in protest. Chrys rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I mean Dobby all ready told us it wasn't _You-Know-Who_."

"Not him." Harry waved his hand flippantly. "Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy?"' George wondered. It fit, as apparently Malfoy's father used to be a big supporter of Voldemort.

"Not surprising. Malfoy makes Dudley look like a kind, thoughtful, sensitive boy," Harry grumbled.

"Oh, I'm sure Malfoy is plenty sensitive if you know where to kick him." Chrys laughed manically. The boys winced in unison.

Fred cleared his throat. "Moving on, the Malfoy's certainly are rich enough, and Pureblooded enough to have a house-elf or two stashed away."

"It's good to know what held up the letters though," Ron put in. "At first I assumed it was Errol as usual."

"Errol?" Chrys and Harry wondered in unison.

"The family owl. He's ancient. Wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery." Ron shrugged.

"How sad," Chrys sighed.

"So then I tried to borrow Hermes—"

"The Greek god of thieves and travelers?" Chrys bounced in her seat. "He exists?"

"Um, no. Hermes is the owl Percy got for making prefect. Only Percy refuses to share him."

"Percy has been acting odd this summer," George commented. "Been sending a lot of letters from his room… which he hardly ever leaves."

"Ooh, secretive." Chrys grinned. George laughed.

"With Percy it's more likely he's been polishing his prefect badge the entire time…" He tapped the compass on the dashboard. "Hold up Fred, you're getting off course."

Harry was ruffling his hair again. "I'm guessing your dad doesn't know you've taken the car out for a joyride?"

"Not a joyride, a rescue mission!" Fred corrected.

"Hear, hear!" Chrys called out gratefully.

"He's got work tonight, so as long as we get it back into the garage without mum noticing, we're home free," Ron confirmed. Harry started excitedly questioning Ron on the details of his father's work. Ironically Mr. Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.

"If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest," Fred said fondly.

In ten minutes Fred happily announced touchdown as the car slammed into the ground, which was just as well as Chrys was starting to get sleepy.

"The Burrow." Chrys tilted her head so she could read the lopsided signpost sticking out of the dirt. The house was just as lopsided as the sign.

"It's not much," Ron mumbled, leading them to the front door.

"It's wonderful," Harry said.

"Glorious," Chrys agreed, liking the way Harry's face lit up at the sight of the strange structure. Ron's ears went red.

George dragged the trunks out of the trunk as Fred concocted a plan to sneak the twins in without Mrs. Weasley noticing.

Unfortunately, this plan was nipped in the bud by the appearance of Mrs. Weasley herself. Chubby and wearing a flowery apron, Mrs. Weasley was nonetheless the most formidable woman Chrys had ever seen, even including the indomitable Professor McGonagall. Chrys was unsurprised that all the Weasley boys slunk back, practically hiding behind Harry.

Faced with such a challenge, Chrys became even more determined. She stuck out her hand and threw on her most winsome smile. "Good morning Mrs. Weasley, nice to see you again!"

For a moment, Mrs. Weasley was startled out of her fury. "Why yes… lovely to see you again dear."

"Morning mum!" George grinned, clearly thinking he was in the clear. Mrs. Weasley rounded on him.

"You! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Mrs. Weasley's voice could have frozen the heart of a dragon. She chewed them properly out while Chrys and Harry exchanged guilty looks. Still, thought Chrys, it was obvious that Mrs. Weasley cared deeply for her children. All of her complaints were for their safety.

Eventually, when her throat had gone too hoarse for her to continue, Mrs. Weasley ushered the Potter twins into the house. "Have some breakfast." It sounded like an order. A kindly order, but an order all the same.

Chrys, who hadn't a bite to eat since that slurp of soup hours ago, was well ready to follow that order. She practically skipped across the threshold. Harry was a bit more reluctant to follow, so Chrys pulled him by the hand. Soon enough Harry was the one charging ahead, overcome with excitement at seeing his first wizarding home.

"Look at this! Oh, and that! Hey Chrys come and see…" Harry's eyes shone like fireflies. Chrys shuffled, somewhat embarrassed and somewhat amused, behind him.

Ron was confused. "It's just a clock, and some books… a radio…"

"I've never seen anything so amazing," Harry assured him. He was momentarily distracted by the smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

"If this is a dream, don't wake me," Chrys sighed dramatically, breathing in the steam rising from the heaping plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. Harry playfully pinched her side. She yelped. "What'd you do that for?"

"Just proving it's real." He grinned. "You said—" She shoved an egg in his mouth to shut him up, doing a little victory dance as yolk dribbled down his chin. He chewed and swallowed, cut off from making any comeback by the sound of a young girl squealing and running out of the room.

"My sister Ginny," Ron informed them. "She's been talking about you all summer."

"Next she'll be wanting your autograph," Fred laughed.

"What? Why?" Harry's forehead scrunched up.

"We're famous, remember?" Chrys teased.

Fred grinned mischievously. "Yeah, there's that and that fact that she sort of fancies…"

Mrs. Weasley glared at him until he went quiet.

After breakfast Harry volunteered to help out the Weasley brothers with their chores. Chrys was more than ready to go to sleep, but not wanting to seem less considerate than Harry, she rolled up her sleeves and joined in.

Mrs. Weasley taught them home to degnome the garden with instructions from a book called _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests. _Mrs. Weasley took an extra moment to admire the man on the cover, whom Chrys presumed was said Gilderoy Lockhart. Fred complained about his mother being overly fond of the author.

"I suppose he is rather handsome," Chrys said, coming to Mrs. Weasley's defense.

Fred groaned. "Not you too." Not knowing what else to do, Chrys stuck her tongue out at him. Fred rolled his eyes, but seemed pacified for the moment.

The three Weasley brothers, Harry and Chrys spent the rest of the morning chucking wrinkly brown creatures called gnomes over the fence. Chrys felt sort of bad for tossing around cognizant beings, but Ron assured her that they were thick skulled enough to take it.

She continued with vengence when one gnome chomped down on Harry's hand. "Get off of him you little bugger!" She shouted, kick dropping the offender into a nearby tree.

"You know, you wouldn't have done half-bad at football," Harry commented admiringly.

Chrys shrugged dismissively. "Who would have played with us?"

Harry considered. "Bet I can get more gnomes than you," he challenged her.

"You're on." She grinned. Pretty soon Fred, George and Ron joined in. Harry came out on top, with Fred and George not far behind.

"Thank you, thank you." Fred and George bowed in turn.

"Show-offs." Ron shook his head.

"What's next?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Well…" Before Ron could answer Fred stood up straight.

"Dad's home!"

Chrys felt a traitorous stab of jealousy as the Weasleys crowded around their balding patriarch. She tried not to imagine her own father arriving home (wherever that was) from his job (whatever that was) and showering her with hugs and kisses. The images only intensified her urge to go run and hide.

She tuned back in when she realized the man's bespectacled gaze was directed towards her. Mr. Weasley gave Chrys a warm smile.

"You must be Chrys. Pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about—"

Mrs. Weasley interrupted, going on a rant about the danger his sons had put themselves in. Though Mr. Weasley seemed more impressed than anything else, he did his best to admonish his sons. Figuring this was a waste of time, Ron motioned Chrys over, leading her and Harry up the stairs.

"I'll show you my bedroom." They dawdled up the stairs, pausing at the third landing where they caught another glimpse of Ginny. Ron shook his head. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally."

"I know the feeling." Harry elbowed Chrys lightly. She shoved him back, but stopped as soon as she realized high up they were. Dizziness threatened to defeat her. Just when she thought her head would spin clear off her neck and bounce down the stairs, Ron finally came to a stop.

"Cute plaque Ronald," Chrys commented, tapping the gold colored sign that labeled his door.

"Glad you like it," Ron replied.

"Cute sarcasm," she added.

"I learnt from the best," he quipped.

Harry chuckled, pausing as they stepped inside. "It's so…"

"Shabby? Cramped? Untidy?" Ron guessed self-deprecatingly.

"Orange," Harry finished.

"Oh." Ron let out a breath of relief. "Yeah, it's cause of the Chudley Cannons…"

"Your Quidditch team?" Harry inferred, eyeing poster covered walls.

As the boys rambled on about Quidditch, Chrys squeezed into the niche next to the fish tank. She greeted Scabbers the rat with a scratch behind the ears, and went on to devour Ron's pile of wizarding comic books.

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**Whoops, I kinda forgot I'd finished this chapter. Here it is then. Thank you for the continued reviews, follows and favorites. You people make the world spin round.**


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